You Say You Want A Revolution
by Meredith T. Tasaki
Summary: AU. John knows bounty hunting isn't usually easy, but really. Okay, said the hacker, not even bothering to take his interface goggles off. I have devoted a significant amount of my valuable time to trying to figure out what is wrong with you.


You Say You Want a Revolution

Summary: AU. John knows bounty hunting isn't usually easy, but really. "Okay," said the hacker, not looking at him, not even bothering to take his interface goggles off. "I have devoted a significant amount of my valuable time to trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with you."

Notes: Set in the universe of the anime "Cowboy Bebop", but prior knowledge shouldn't be necessary. I hope.

If for some reason you want to harangue me about any possible sequel, you can always bother me on my LJ. There's a link on my profile page-- "ameretrifle" is the name I've got there. Links to other fics, too. (shrugs) Incidentally.

-

Even when he finally tracked the slippery little bastard down, John wasn't sure what exactly he'd been expecting a master computer hacker to look like. On the one hand, you had the whole nouveau riche thing; he could see this sort of guy with fancy wines and tacky gold necklaces, glorying in the newfound trappings of the wealthy. On the other hand-- hacker. Computer geek. Probably never saw sunlight. He could see pocket-protectors and a room filled with nerd merchandise.

What he got was a guy in jeans, t-shirt, and a jacket in a dingy little apartment. Of course, he _did_ seem to be permanently attached to his computer, so score one for the nerd stereotypes.

"Okay," said the hacker, not looking at him, not even bothering to take his interface goggles off. "So I have been forced to devote a significant amount of my valuable time to trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with you."

"I could call my exes," John offered laconically, "get you a list."

"Please don't. I finally decided that you are either insanely principled or insanely stubborn, or more likely both, and frankly there's a lot of overlap between the two concepts anyway. Or there's still the possibility you're just stupid. Habla Ingles? No dinero aqui por tu. Run along, now."

"Sorry," John said, "I need the cash."

"What part of-- oh, let me help you. When I said 'no dinero por tu', I meant 'you aren't going to get any money from this'. Technically it wasn't really Spanish, but I thought it was pretty obvious."

John rolled his eyes. "I'm not expecting to get anything from _you_," he explained patiently.

"Ah, so you are an idiot. Thanks for clearing that up for me."

"You do realize there's a bounty on your head, right?"

"Not according to the cops' database, there isn't." He turned the screen toward John. "Apparently they found evidence exonerating me. What did you _think_ was hapepning when my name disappeared from the list?"

"They'll still take you."

"No they won't."

"You just _confessed_."

"Ah, but you _are_ still in their system, Mr. Sheppard." He tapped a couple of keys. "No matter how thoroughly the headquarters and infrastructure have been destroyed, do you really think the cops are going to believe an ex-Red Dragon? Hell, they'll probably arrest you instead. You've got a couple of warrants."

John knew more than enough about cops to know that this was almost certainly true. Damn it. "I could still make trouble for you."

"Lord, we _are_ persistent, aren't we? Bounty hunting isn't working out too well for you? I've heard there's an oversupply."

John found a slightly rusty folding chair in the corner and pulled it up, because it wasn't like he had anywhere else to be. "Yeah, so I've noticed."

"Did you just pull up a chair? Why did you just pull up a chair?"

"As you so incisively observed, it's not like I got anything productive to do."

"So you're going to sit around here and torment me in hopes that I'll give you money."

"Sounds like as good a plan as anything else I've come up with recently." Actually, probably better, given that what he passed off as "plans" had, to date, left him as a broke ex-gang member bounty hunter in the lousiest city on Venus. He'd never exactly been known for his planning skills. Of course, he'd never really gotten a chance to try them out.

"Except that I don't have any money."

John laughed. "Uh, you robbed a _bank_."

"I've been exonerated and dropped off the suspect list, remember? And does the state of this place _look_ like I have any money?"

"No... but your laptop sure does."

"Oh, so _now_ you choose to be observant." The hacker shook his head in disgust. "Is your obtuseness deliberate, or some sort of exotic disorder?"

"What did you do with the money?"

"IRAs, stocks, bonds--"

"Seriously."

"I did!"

"What, all of it?"

"...Okay, I confess. I'm running a Robin Hood operation, except I _admit_ to skimming a little off the top."

"Steal from the rich, give to the poor?" John's knowledge of children's stories was pretty sketchy.

"Much as I hate that I've sunk to such philanthropic depths... yes."

John blinked. "I'm poor," he suggested.

"Yeah, you are. I'm organizing a Marxist revolution for next Saturday, want to sign up?"

John cocked his head at him. With those damn square goggles covering his eyes, it was damn hard to figure out whether or not the man was being serious. "How much of that is true?"

"It'll probably take five to ten years," the hacker admitted. "But I think I can swing it. Have you _seen_ the craphole we live in?"

"Point," John acknowledged. All the planets he'd been to had seemed to be half comprised of slums-- and the people who _were_ eking out a decent living didn't seem much happier. As for the rich people... People like him didn't meet rich people.

"All the damn colonies are run by gangs. The police are corrupt, the government is overextended and useless, and the rich get everything while everyone else gets screwed."

As a broke ex-gang member who'd been on the wrong end of a couple of government science projects, John had to agree. "So you seriously robbed a bank to fund the workingmen's revolution."

"Well... no." The hacker fidgeted. "I robbed a bank to buy a ship, pay my rent, and give to charity."

"...Why'd you buy a ship?"

"Any revolution needes forces on the ground, unfortunately, even in our day and age. Besides, it's possible there might be a couple of policemen who haven't forgotten I exist. And I think my sister wants me dead."

"Seriously?"

"No. But I'm pretty sure her husband wants me gone. Fortunately, I doubt he's very particular about how that's accomplished."

"Ah." John thought back. "What charity did you give to?"

"What, isn't it obvious?"

John shook his head in exasperation. "Why would it be obvious?"

Now the hacker swiveled his chair toward him, staring at him through the glasses.

"What?"

The hacker slipped off his goggles and stared at him, vaguely defiant.

John usually couldn't tell anything about people's eye color, but even in this dim light, his eyes looked wide and kind of pretty. Maybe it was the novelty; John didn't know many people with blue eyes. Or were they grey? "And?"

The hacker leaned forward.

"_What_?!"

"Oh, for the love of-- I'm BLIND, you idiot!"

John blinked. "Really?"

"No, I'm hoping for a handout from the pathetically broke bounty hunter. YES!"

"Huh. I'm sorry. How'd that happen?"

The hacker slipped his goggles back on. "You look serious. Tell me you're not serious."

Of course, _that_ was why the man spent his life plugged into his computer. It wasn't a distraction from life like it was for most people these days; this man's computer was his only way to see the outside world. "Why, what'd I do now?"

"I'm blind for the _obvious_ reason anyone would be blind on Venus."

"...No singles bars?"

"Were you smuggled onto this planet in a _box_? They give you _print_ warnings! They make you sign a _waiver_! They have it on the PA every five minutes in all the spaceports!"

"Your box theory? Actually not far off."

The hacker sighed. "To create a breathable atmosphere on this planet, they used special plants. They keep these plants up in the sky. Their pollen falls down on everyone. A few people react badly to it. I just got lucky."

"Oh. Huh. I _thought _it was too warm for snow."

The hacker just shook his head, muttering something John couldn't decipher (which was probably for the best).

"I could be a charitable endeavour," John pointed out.

"I've already alloted all of my money, thank you."

"Can you really pilot a spaceship with that thing?"

"Of course I can. I--"

"Oh, come _on_. ALL the computer control interfaces to date aren't any damn better than automatic pilots. Even if it _could_ port enough data to you in _any_ adequate way, piloting's not something you can just pick up. Have you thought about space debris? What about cops? If you keep robbing banks or whatever, there _will_ be cops. No way in hell you can outrun them with no experience, with that bit rate, with that piece of crap excuse for an interface the manufacturer gives you."

"...And from your sudden display of indignant expertise, I infer you can."

"Hell, yes. What, that's not in my record?"

"There were... indications. Why did you think I let you find my address?"

"_Let_ me? There were six levels of encryption on that thing!"

"Like I said. Let you."

John fumed briefly, but his computer skills, while adequate, didn't come close to this hacker's, and there was no point in denying it. "So this was a job interview?"

"Oh, good, I was _hoping_ your idiocy was selective."

"Did I pass?"

"Let's just say my options are sadly limited."

"So you _are_ gonna give me money?"

"Maybe. But I will give you food. And you get to fly my ship."

"Okay." John considered this. "What kind of ship is it?"

The hacker turned the screen toward him again; John got up to look. "A Pegasus? I can work with that. I'll want to modify the fuel and power systems, though-- those things suck the life out of you if you're not careful."

"Good." The hacker stuck out a hand. "Rodney McKay."

"John Sheppard." John grinned and took it. "You know, I think this is the beginning--"

"Oh god, you nerd, don't you say it--"

"--of a beautiful friendship." John's grin grew wider. "We gonna save the world yet?"

"Give it time," Rodney said, and grinned back. "Give it time."

-


End file.
